Hunting Down the Darkness

by European P. Douglas

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well let's just say, my men are not going to kill him if they can avoid it. I can’t say that for sure of anyone else.” Mary understood now and it was something that she had worried about herself, especially since Spencer could no longer use the apartment after running into Kate there. She hadn’t heard from him since then. He’d said he didn’t want her involved anymore but she had hoped he would at least find some way to let her know that he was alright.

  “I hope it doesn’t come to that,” she said in answer to James.

  “Is there anything else you would like to tell me?” he asked.

  “Spencer thinks that someone from the Hellfire Club must have set him up, he didn’t say how, but he believes they must be the real killer,” Mary said. James frowned deeply at this and she could see that the idea of the killer still being free upset him greatly.

  “Well, then we better hope your belief in Spencer is unfounded and that he is soon back in custody!” he seemed to snap and then with a curt bow he left her standing there, bewildered.

  Chapter 62

  The wooden cart groaned and creaked under the weight of its load as it pulled up outside Madame Mel’s establishment in the area known as Hell. Mullins stopped walking too and looked around uneasily. He didn’t like being at the house and he didn’t want people to see him there. The driver of the cart got down and walked up to the door rapping hard twice on its shining red paintwork. Mullins winced at the thudding noise, looking around afresh for the eyes this must surely draw.

  Thankfully the door opened at once and a servant looked out and then motioned for the driver to wait a moment. He was a large surly looking man and he simply plodded wearily back to the cart and leaned against it. The man hadn’t said a word to Mullins the whole time. Madame Mel had hired him to come and collect the railing from the blacksmith and she’d sent a note to Mullins the previous evening asking him to come to the house at the same time.

  Mel arrived at the door, flanked by two men who immediately set about unloading the cart. Mullins assumed these were the men who were going to erect the railings.

  “Mr Mullins,” Mel said with a warm smile “Come on into the office a moment won’t you?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer before disappearing back inside. Mullins shifted uneasily; the last thing he wanted to do was go in there, but he expected she was going to pay him now and he supposed an office was the place these kinds of things were usually done.

  “Better do as she asks,” one of the men unloading the railings said to him with a wink.

  “I’ll get paid and be on my way,” Mullins said testily. He didn’t like the insinuation in the man’s face and had this been a whiskey cabin or pub he would have let the man know how he felt about it. He would have to settle for a scowl this time; no need to bring any more attention to his being here. He walked up the steps and went into the house.

  “Hello?” he said on finding the entrance hallway empty.

  “Just down here,” the called voice came back to him. Mullins walked slowly in the direction it had come from. The smells of the girls’ perfume filled his nostrils and he could hear a low rumble of laughing farther back in the house. Some customers no doubt, he thought. Images of Kate in this place were trying to force themselves to mind but he fought them. He really didn’t want to think of her here.

  “There you are,” Mel’s voice said as he passed an open door. He stopped and looked in. This wasn’t like any office he had ever seen before.

  The carpet was thick and three sofas were set on three sides of a low table scattered with some papers and a newssheet. Thick curtains were tied back on either side of the large windows and the morning light poured in. Every surface was polished and clean and he was afraid to touch off anything lest he would leave a stain from his work clothes.

  “You needn’t look so nervous,” she said watching him enter, “Nothing in here is irreplaceable.”

  “I just don’t want to get anything dirty,” he said.

  “As I say, that’s not something you need to concern yourself with,” she answered with a smile. “Come in and sit down.” She sat down on one of the couches and patted the seat beside her.

  “I’m alright standing, thanks,” Mullins answered. She looked at him with a coy face and smiled.

  “You really are uncomfortable in here, aren't you?” she laughed softly. Mullins could feel his face reddening but he didn’t answer. “Alright,” she said getting up and passing him to close the door. “Let me pay you for your fine work.”

  To Mullins’ shock and horror, Mel lifted one leg and put her foot on the table. She pulled up her dress to expose white stockings all the way up to her thigh. At the top, he could see her flesh and there was something tucked in there. He turned away in shame. Mel laughed again,

  “You don’t need to be so coy,” she said, “You’ve seen more in your life, I’m sure.”

  “I...” Mullins started to say something but he didn’t know what to say. She was so beautiful and in truth he’d been aroused by what he’d seen. He knew it was wrong but it had happened all the same.

  Mel’s hands suddenly enveloped him from behind and he could feel her body pressed up against his back.

  “I think you deserve more than money for the fine work you’ve done,” she said and her hands crept under his shirt and felt his muscled abdomen and chest. “Ohh,” she said, impressed with the hard physique. Though the feeling of her hands on his flesh was magical, he quickly pulled away, his mind awash with different thoughts. That his body wanted her was of no doubt but his mind would not allow it. He knew what work she did, or at least what kind of business she ran and then he thought of Kate and all he wanted was to be out of there. So flustered was he that he stepped comically around Madame Mel and fled without even taking the money for the railings.

  As he rushed out the door and down the hall, he could hear her cackling laughter following him. He felt ashamed and angry and was glad when the light of the world was on his face again. The men unloading the railings stopped and looked at him as he rushed off but none said anything and soon he was away from this place and very thankful for that fact.

  Chapter 63

  Dark had fallen when Muc entered the whiskey cabin on Cook Street. He was surprised to find the place though filled as ever, much quieter than usual. There were no shouts and arguments taking place, no singing or arm-wrestling. The focus of the room was in one place and when he looked there, Muc saw a huge longhaired man sitting in the corner talking. Everyone in the room was listening to him with rapt attention so Muc nodded to the barman for a jug and propped his elbow up to listen too.

  “The first time I ever felt the Devil I was in Switzerland in a place called Schöllenen Gorge,” the man said in a Germanic accent. “I had been there only a day when someone mentioned Teufelsbrücke to me.”

  “What’s that?” someone close by him asked.

  “In English it means ‘Devil's Bridge,’” Deek smiled at him. “They asked me if I had come in by that way and I had not. They said I should go and see the bridge but not to go at night,” he grinned. “Of course I thought they were just local people like anywhere trying to scare a stranger for fun, so I decided I would go up there at night and let them know I was doing it. I was sure they would set something up to scare me and I was happy to go along with it.”

  At this point Muc noticed that Mullins was sitting up near the man and that he looked like he’d had a lot to drink already. He was almost swaying in his seat but he looked on the man with rapt attention. What had happened to him today to have him in this state? He would make sure to ask when this story was over and the cabin returned to normal.

  “In a tavern that afternoon, the tavern keeper told me more about the bridge,” Deek continued, “They said because it was over the gorge the engineering and building of it seemed impossible. It had to be built however as they needed a faster route out of the mountain to the trading towns beyond.

  “Th
ey tried everything they could think of and even called in experts from many miles away. They all said that it could not be done, but the people said, ‘It must be done.’” The men in the room looked about at one another and Muc smiled, this foreigner had them all eating out his hand and he wondered what the man was selling.

  “The legend goes then that the Devil came to the town one night and told them all that he would make a bridge over the gorge but that there would be a heavy price to pay for it.”

  “What was it?" a trembling voice asked the man.

  “He said that he would construct the bridge and guarantee it would stand for a thousand years but his price was that he would become the possessor of the soul of the first to cross it!”

  “That’s sounds like old Lucifer, alright!” someone called out but the usual laugh that should have accompanied a call like this didn’t come. Each man still stared at the stranger wanting to know what had happened. Muc was reminded of Cleaves or The Dolocher, as he was better known now. He’d often told tales in this fashion in the pubs. It made him wonder if this man right here was not the very same killer they were all afraid of every night.

  “The Devil said he would give them one night to think about it, that he would come back one more time and that would be the last chance they would ever get.”

  “What form did he take?” someone asked.

  “He was a man, but everyone knew who he was, they could feel it,” the stranger said looking around. Muc watched the men and he smiled knowing that some of them would now believe that they too were sitting in the company of the Devil himself.

  “What did they do?” This time it was Mullins who spoke to the man.

  “They had a meeting and talked for hours, well into the night. They all knew that they had to have the bridge but they couldn’t decide how the soul was to be chosen. Finally just before dawn, a young man came up with an idea that they all agreed on. Everyone went to bed happy that the decision had been made.

  “The next day the Devil came back and asked if they wanted their bridge or not. They said that they did and he reminded them of his price that they assured him they were willing to pay. The Devil was as good as his word and as the people watched a strong sturdy bridge appeared over the gorge. The people were astonished and they thanked him for his work. He said ‘Don’t thank me yet, there is still the price to be paid.’

  “They assured him that they hadn’t forgotten the bargain and with that the young man who’d come up the idea suddenly started banging sticks together in front of him. A small goat ran scared from his feet and the boy herded it to the bridge. Seeing no other way to escape save jumping down into the gorge, the little goat ran onto the bridge and all the way across. The people laughed and said to the Devil, ‘There is the first to cross your bridge, there is your soul!’

  “The Devil, as you can imagine, was furious with how they had tricked him. His rage was so great that he picked up a huge boulder and made for the bridge intending to smash it to pieces. The young boy had thought he would react like this and at once, everyone in town drew out a crucifix and blocked his way. The Devil screamed at the sight of so many crosses and he dropped the boulder and fled. That boulder is still there to this day,” the stranger finished talking.

  At once, the men in cabin started murmuring to their neighbour and within a few moments the whole place was alive again as it should be. People moved about, some clapped the German on the back, and others gave him some of their whiskey into his jug. Muc alone seemed to be the only one who had noticed that the dark stranger had not finished his story; he hadn’t told what had happened when he went up to the bridge that night. Muc intended to ask him once he found out what was going on with Mullins.

  Chapter 64

  Oliver Shandy was patting down his horse when Lisa came into the stable carrying a letter from Lord Stapleton. This was the way it was always done, the letter would go to Lisa and into the hands of Shandy outside somewhere and he would then leave to deliver it to the mistress in Galway. This time, however, Shandy noticed a grim determination in the servant girl’s face.

  “You’re not going to Galway this time,” she said handing him the letter.

  “Where then?” he asked looking dubiously at her. He knew at once she was up to something but what?

  “Dublin, and you’re taking me with you,” she answered.

  “And what am I to tell Stapleton when his floozy doesn’t get her letter?”

  “She will get it if it matters so much to you,” Lisa said, “But first you will be taking me to Dublin.”

  “For what reason?”

  “I’m going to work there, for Mr Edwards.” Shandy laughed,

  “Rather you than me,” he said. Lisa sneered at him,

  “You’d rather be Stapleton's letter carrier the rest of your life?”

  “I don’t mind it, I get to travel, keep to my own habits,” Shandy said.

  “I don’t care about that,” she cut him off, “You’re taking me and that’s all there is to it.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Then I tell about your trying to kill the Alderman,”

  “Who’d believe you?” It was his turn to sneer now.

  “Plenty,” she shot back quicker than he’d expected, “And well you know it!” The force of her conviction set him back, never had a woman been able to cow him like this before. He gave her a hard look but didn’t answer for a moment.

  “Fine,” he spat at last, “I’ll take you to your new master.”

  “Good, we leave in an hour,” she told him and started to walk away. He watched her and thought how easy it would be to kill her once they were alone on the road. It would be the last thing she ever did to try to blackmail him. Lisa stopped at the door and said, as though reading his mind, “I posted a letter to an aunt of mine in Dublin yesterday. If I don’t arrive safe and sound in the next day or so she is going to the Alderman to tell him where to find another letter with all the information on your attack on him.” She never turned or waited for an answer from him. She was gone.

  Shandy stood there a few moments and wondered if she was telling the truth. She seemed to be a shrewd one; he had to give her that. On this basis, he decided that she probably was telling the truth.

  “Stapleton will miss his little jilly,” he said scornfully to his horse as he began to pat her down again. The thought crossed his mind of telling Stapleton about her planned abscondence but it wasn’t safe; there was no telling how she would react to that. For the time being he would just have to go along with whatever she wanted. He would see to her later, when it was safe to do so.

  Lisa showed up just under an hour later and saw with annoyance that no horse was ready for her.

  “I’m not stealing a horse for you into the bargain,” Shandy said. “You want to do that it will be on your own head.” She looked like she was about to start arguing but then thought better of it. Time was her enemy he felt; she was eager to get going.

  “I’ll ride out to the crossroads and meet you there,” he said.

  “If you’re not there, I’ll be straight back here telling what I know,” she warned.

  “I know, I know,” he said wearily. He heeled the horse and it trotted out of the stable.

  On the way to the crossroads, he began to think and soon decided that it was not all that bad that he was going to Dublin now. He still had unfinished business with the Alderman. If he could accomplish that quickly and then set off for Galway and Stapleton’s mistress he could say he was simply delayed a little on the way, any excuse would do. Often in the past Shandy had taken a day or two longer than strictly necessary to carry out one of these errands and the Lord hadn’t seemed put out by it before.

  The only trouble now was that he was going to have to kill Lisa too, but not until he found out where the hidden letter was. How he was going to do that was what he should be focusing on. Perhaps the old aunt might be willing to talk if she thought her niece was in danger? If not it might come do
wn to the old aunt’s life being in danger.

  When he arrived at the meeting point, he pulled in off the road and hid beneath the trees a few yards into a field. He knew she would not be able to see him as she approached and she would think he’d left without her. It was little irks that would unhinge someone like her he thought. Now that she had thought to make Oliver Shandy her servant, it would not be too much longer she would have to worry about irksome things.

  Chapter 65

  Edwards walked briskly along Cook Street heading for the little whiskey cabin he’d become fond of over the years when he was looking for some entertainment. Tonight, however, there was also an ulterior motive for his coming here. He was hoping to perhaps run into Lord Muc and feel him out about the other killer. Edwards felt he should be able to tell, or at least get a sense of it, if Muc was the killer and if so what he was playing at. It was a little risky to be coming to him like this, especially in a place where, if he was there, he was likely to be drunk and easy to aggravate. The truth was that Edwards had already made up his mind that it was Muc seeing as he had no one else at in mind who it could be. It would be nice to hear it from the man himself all the same.

  As he walked into the cabin, he got his wish faster than he would have liked. He’d only barely had time to see that Daniel Deek was inside when a powerful hand caught him by the throat and dragged him outside. It was Muc and he didn’t stop there but pulled Edwards into a close by alley and then slammed him hard against the wall, never once loosening his grip.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Edwards demanded of him; his cool exterior leaving him much faster than he would have liked. Muc’s eye bored in to his own and it was as if the savage was trying to read his mind. There was a long moment before he said anything.